


Walking the Path

by frek



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Missing Scene, Moving On, Yuletide 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-21
Updated: 2008-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 06:36:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1636808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frek/pseuds/frek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A month after Kerrigor crossed the wall, Sabriel is finally going home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking the Path

**Author's Note:**

> NotusLethe, I hope you enjoy this story. I was thrilled to see that I was going to be able to write a story based in my favorite books. I hope that I did them justice. Have a happy Yuletide! I also wanted to give a HUGE thank you to Minyan and Bailey for the last minute betas and to Laura for the overall push I needed to keep moving.
> 
> Written for NotusLethe

 

 

It had been a long month since Kerrigor had crossed the wall. Sabriel had attended many funerals - too many. After so many years where death was just a concept that her father brought along with his few visits to Ancelstierre, she had seen more than she had dreamt of. And in her path, many more deaths lurked. If she were to choose a path, this would not have been it, even though it was apparent that this was what she was suited for. As her father had said while she was growing up, "Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?"

It seemed that the coming - and binding - of Kerrigor had also brought along a new sort of world, one where Sabriel was suddenly an authority. She no longer felt like the young school girl she had been just a couple months before. She had quickly become the young woman the Old Kingdom needed in order to be restored to its former glory. She had become Abhorsen.

Sabriel stood before the grave markers of those she had been closest to all her years growing up, and those that she had befriended so much later. The closest of those belonged to Magistrix Greenwood. She had been the closest to a mother Sabriel had ever had, though Sabriel remembered her more as a friend now. She thanked her for her help and determination; without her help and understanding that night, Kerrigor would have taken out everyone in the school, if not everyone in the town. She whispered a few charter marks, tracing their shape over the ground, and flowers bloomed up before the marker.

She stepped over to Colonel Horyse's marker and felt a wave of sadness wash over her once more. That night he had spoken softly of a wish to have seen more of the Old Kingdom, knowing at last, that he would never do so. Sabriel wished that she had had the chance to show it to him, take him to Abhorsen's house and Belisaere and show him the beauty of the Old Kingdom. Unfortunately, he'd only seen the worst and he died fighting it. She spoke the same charter marks as before and watched as more flowers bloomed from the ground.

She did the same for several others, thanking them for their sacrifice and giving her blessings, before finally walking away from the graveyard and back into the town. She looked around the town as she walked, seeing the vibrant colors of the autumn leaves as they changed from the green of the summer. It was her last day in Ancelstierre before crossing back into the Old Kingdom. All the flutes along the wall had been made anew, after much work and little sleep, and hopefully would stand for a great many years. It was time to head across the wall and attempt to fix that which had gone so wrong over the last 200 years.

\- - -

Sabriel said goodbye to the new officer in charge at the crossing point. He seemed wary of letting her go back to the Old Kingdom - just as Colonel Horyse had the first time she crossed alone. She was certain, though, that this time it wasn't for the same reasons. They were still worried about the dead that continued to rise almost nightly on the other side. Somehow, some remnants of Kerrigor's terrible attack remained along the border and the dead rose easily around this part of the wall. She had assured him the flutes would do their job and the remaining charter mages at the wall would be able to do the rest. Even so, he still looked reluctant to see her off.

Sabriel would meet Touchstone just across the wall, at Cloven Crest - Barhedrin Hill. She would have to remember to call it by it's proper name from now on. They were going to repair the charter stone together before taking a paperwing to Abhorsen's -her- house. She had never repaired a stone before; it was old magic, difficult magic. But with her and Touchstone's skills and power, it should be repaired before nightfall if all went well.

She turned from the wall and faced the Old Kingdom, ready to enter it for the first time in several weeks. Things were different there now. It wasn't snowing heavily like before. And the sky seemed brighter, happier. It helped her spirits and encouraged her to move along the path. Walking was slower than skiing, but the time quickly passed as Sabriel moved toward the stone and Touchstone.

\- - -

She reached the stone while the sun was still high in the sky. Cloven Crest was a whole different place in the bright sunlight. Even with the broken stone it still wasn't nearly as foreboding as it had felt her first day across the wall. And though, she could still feel the nausea brought on by the broken stone, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had felt the first time she had seen it. As she drew closer to the stone, she caught a glimpse of Touchstone. He was sitting several feet from it, facing away and studying an old book. He didn't notice her coming toward him, being completely absorbed in his studies.

Sabriel stopped behind him, dropping her bag to the ground. She ran a hand over her bell bandolier and over her scabbard. She wanted to remove them too, to let the weight off her shoulders for a few moments, but she knew better. "Touchstone," she finally spoke after he never looked up.

He held a finger up in response, finishing what he was reading before placing the book gingerly on the ground. He stood up and smiled at her. "Abhorsen," he said, bowing his head slightly.

Sabriel blushed. There was something in his smile that made her feel like the girls back at Wyverly College, silly and carefree. It made butterflies flutter in her chest. "Sabriel," she corrected him uselessly. She knew he was only doing it to get to her. She glanced down at the book, anxious to get his eyes away from her burning face. "Are you ready to get started?"

Touchstone leaned down and picked up the book, "I've found out how we're supposed to repair the stone. It's nothing more than some complex charter marks and a bit of our blood, willingly given. We're lucky that it isn't going to take the whole of the bloodlines to repair these stones. We'll also need you to finish the binding with one of your bells. Saraneth."

Sabriel glanced warily at the stone and its jagged crack, the blood stained over it, her fingers automatically sliding over Saraneth's worn handle. Even though they weren't standing right beside it, she could still feel the door to death the break had created. It was like a cold breeze on a warm day, sending chills down her spine. "Nothing more?" Sabriel asked, knowing full well that Touchstone was just trying to make light of the difficult task they had. Old spells were hardly 'nothing more.' They were usually a lot more than that.

Touchstone set up a circle around the stone, using his sword to draw the points in the dirt. It didn't take him long; he was much stronger than he was when she had last seen him. With his book still in his spare hand, Touchstone pointed Sabriel to the opposite side of the stone with his sword. They could see each other through the crack. "Follow my lead. When the spell is at its peak, you will need to ring Saraneth three times counterclockwise."

Sabriel nodded, ignoring the nausea that tried to overtake her as she stood closer to the stone. She listened as Touchstone began to speak the charter marks, drawing their shapes in the air as he did so. They were very old marks he spoke, they held great power. Within moments, Sabriel found herself speaking and drawing the same marks, marks she had never known, but were somehow just as much a part of her as the ones she did.

As the power began to flow stronger from their fingertips into the stones, Touchstone took his sword and ran it along his palm, a line of his blood forming in its absence. Sabriel took her sword and did the same, leaving a matching red line on her own palm. They continued to speak the marks as they reached out with their bloodied palms and touched the stone at the base of the crack. They took a step back and continued chanting, drawing, marks flying from their fingers faster than Sabriel could understand them. Her hair was being whipped around by a furious wind conjured by their spell. It was like being in the middle of a great storm; she almost expected rain to come falling to the ground at any moment or hailstones crashing through the air. Instead, the power just grew until she knew it was time.

Sabriel reached into the bandolier and undid Saraneth's stopper, removing the bell carefully. The wind made it hard for her to steady the bell, but she was able to keep one hand on the clapper until the last second. Carefully, she turned the bell three times, each turn creating a chime from the bell, and each turn calming the winds down. On the third chime, a bolt of lightning shot from the sky, striking the stone before them. Sabriel fell to the ground at the surge of power from the lightning, her hands finding and holding tightly to Saraneth.

For several moments she lay on the ground, her eyes closed tightly, listening to the silence that had replaced the deafening winds of just seconds before. Amazingly, after the expenditure of power to repair the stone, she didn't feel the least bit tired. In fact, she felt rested. Sabriel opened her eyes, finally, sitting up, her hands still clenching Saraneth. When she looked up at the charter stone, she almost couldn't believe her eyes. The spell had worked, the stone looked just like she imagined it had before. Well, almost. As she stared at the space where the vicious crack had appeared, she saw no sign of it, except for one small mark. At the point where the bottom of the crack would have been, there was a bright silver spot, the same length and width as the bloody spot on her palm. A reminder, Sabriel thought, of the damage that had been done to it.

She stood up and reached out to the silver spot, fingers moving over the smooth surface, remembering the pain and sadness that this stone used to represent. She felt the flow of the charter from the stone through her fingers. It was pure and true, untainted by the blood of the dead and the evil of Kerrigor.

As she lost herself in the infinite stream of the charter, she felt a touch on her hand bring her back to the present. Sabriel opened her eyes and watched as Touchstone's sun darkened hand folded around her own pale fingers and pulled her from the stone. She turned her gaze to his face, a smile forming on her lips. "We did it."

Touchstone nodded, joy in his eyes, "We're going to repair this kingdom. One stone at a time." He reached out and took Saraneth from Sabriel's other hand, which was still gripping the bell tightly, and gently returned it to the bandolier, closing the stopper on it. Glancing at the sky, at the sun moving ever closer to the horizon. "Let's get to your home before it gets dark. I'm still wary of spending much time out here at night if we can help it."

Sabriel nodded, looking for his paperwing that she knew would be nearby. Touchstone reached out to take her hand once more, leading her down a few short steps to where he had landed it. He took her sack and stowed it in the back space, then helped Sabriel to sit on the bottom of the paperwing, in front of the hammock seat, before climbing in behind her.

Sabriel looked up at him as he adjusted himself in the seat and began to whistle the appropriate charter marks for wind and movement. She still couldn't believe that she and Touchstone had survived that night against Kerrigor. Seeing the charter stone repaired had helped to relieve some of the sadness and disbelief that had stayed with her since that night. It was a step in a new direction, the right one. She was now the Abhorsen and Touchstone was the King. And throughout everything that had transpired, they had somehow managed to fall in love. It was almost overwhelming, the feelings that rushed through her as she watched him, the constant flutter in her heart and warmth in her cheeks. Overwhelming at first, she thought as she settled against him, with the wind moving over them, the ground passing below. But definitely a feeling she could become accustomed to.

 


End file.
